Blake had to admit he’d been pleasantly surprised to see Riley and her cousin. When he got back to the table, Susie had been curious about the interaction she’d witnessed, but thankfully she hadn’t pried. He’d appeased her by explaining how he and Riley had met at Retro Village and she’d let it slide.
His dad took one last sip of coffee. “Are you finished?”
Blake and Susie nodded.
“And you’re headed to see Pop?” his dad asked. “Do you want us to come with you?”
Blake shook his head. “You’re welcome to come, but I’m fine to visit him by myself.”
“Good, good. I have a fence that needs mending and I’d like to go ahead and knock it out today. Tell Pop I’ll be out to see him in the next day or so and to let you know if he needs us to bring him anything.”
“Well, not anything.” Susie grinned. “He’s been after us to bring Rambo to visit, but you know how much that dog hates a leash.”
“I told him last time that his stay there was hopefully just temporary, and he and Rambo would be reunited before too much longer anyway,” Dad said.
Blake grinned. “I can’t blame him. It must be tough for them to be apart. He’s had that dog for a decade at least.”
“She’s part of the family, that’s for sure. She gets along with our dog, but I know she’ll be glad to be back with him at home.” Susie stood up and grabbed her purse from underneath her chair.
“I’ll give him a report and let him know that Rambo is doing well,” said Blake. He thanked them for breakfast and headed out to his truck.
Ten minutes later, he was outside his grandfather’s door. He peered inside. Mr. Farley’s bed was empty. He was probably already outside waiting for Riley and the cat to arrive.
Blake rapped on the door. “Grandpa?”
“Come in,” Grandpa called. His face lit up when he saw Blake. “Hey there, Blakey-boy. I’m glad you decided to come home.”
Blake couldn’t help but grin at his grandfather’s childhood nickname for him. “How are you feeling?” He walked over to the chair his grandpa sat in and leaned down for a hug.
“Better now.” Grandpa pointed to the bed. “Have a seat.”
Blake sank onto the hospital bed. “Dad said your hip was healing nicely.”
“It is. I’ll be glad when the let me out of here. First the hospital and now rehab.” He shook his head. “It’s not for me.”
“Well when you’re strong enough, they’ll let you go.” Blake wondered though. Grandpa looked frailer than he had the last time he’d visited. Of course, that was several years ago.
“You know how I am. I want to be able to do my own thing without someone hovering over me all the time.” He frowned. “Well, I admit that I used to like your grandma’s hovering, but now that she’s gone I prefer to take care of myself.”
Blake had always enjoyed spending time at his grandparents’ house. Even when he and Dad weren’t getting along, his grandparents had always seemed happy to have him and had never lectured him on all the things he should or shouldn’t be doing. “How is rehab going?”
“It’s hard work, but if I ever want to get out of here, I have to get through it.”
Blake nodded.
“But enough about me. I know all about me. I want to hear about you.”
Blake filled him in on his cross-country trip. “It’s been nice being back in Arcadia Valley.”
“I hope you’ll plan to stay for a while. At least stay till I come home so we can go fishing.”
Blake grinned. “That’s tempting enough to keep me here. Actually, I’m kind of at loose ends.” He explained about his mom and half-brother.
“I’m sorry.” Grandpa frowned. “Your mama had a hard life. I hate to hear that, Blake.”
“I’m not really sure what I’m going to do now.”
“The good news is that you don’t have to make a decision today. Take some time and weigh your options. But you have a home here in Arcadia Valley. I hope you’ll remember that.”
“I know.” Blake still had a hard time thinking of Arcadia Valley as home though. He may have been born here, but it had been a long time since he’d stayed more than a week or two at a time.
“Let me know if you need me to make some calls and help you get a job lined up.”
“Thanks. I may do that.” Blake hadn’t figured out what to do for work just yet. He was still so new to town, he wasn’t even sure what all his prospects might be. “Is there anything I can do for you? Anything you need while you’re here?”
Grandpa chuckled. “Only one thing I’ve asked for, but so far no dice.”
“What’s that?”
“Rambo.” Grandpa shook his head. “I miss that pup something fierce. I know he can come visit, but you know how he’s not good on a leash. Susie’s afraid he’ll get away from her and she keeps putting me off.”
Blake grinned. “I understand the bond between a man and his dog. Let me see if I can work with Rambo on the leash for a few days and bring him by.”
“I’d be grateful. Every now and then some of the other residents have their pets visit.” He nodded toward the empty bed in his room. “My roommate is out now visiting his cat. A cat! Does that just beat all?”
Blake kept quiet. He sure didn’t want to explain that he already knew all about Mr. Farley and his cat. It would hurt Grandpa’s feelings if he knew he’d left Retro Village without seeing him. “Pets are special I guess, dog or cat. They’re good therapy, too.”
They visited a while longer before Blake stood to leave. “I’ll be back to visit again soon. And Rambo and I will start to work on his leash skills ASAP.” He headed out to his truck, an idea forming in the back of his mind.
The next morning, Blake returned to Retro Village. He pasted on what he hoped was his most charming grin and approached the receptionist desk. “Can I speak to the administrator?”
The plump blond woman narrowed her eyes. “Who may I tell him is calling?”
“I’m Blake Taylor. My grandfather is here for rehab. I just want to run a couple of things by the administrator if that’s okay. It won’t take long.”
She thought for a moment. “Well, okay. Let me go see if he’s available.” She got up from her desk and opened a closed office door behind her. After a few moments, she returned to her desk. “He can see you, but only for ten minutes.”
“Perfect. Thank you for your assistance.” Blake stepped around the reception desk and to the office she’d come from.
A man in a suit sat behind a desk covered in paperwork.
“Sir?” Blake asked.
The man looked up. “Come on in. Ignore the mess.” He grimaced. “We’ve got state inspectors coming later in the week and I’ve got to get all my ducks in a row.”
“Thanks for meeting with me.” Blake introduced himself. “My grandpa is in rehab here. He has always had dogs and he misses his very much now.”
“Many of our residents feel that way. We have a pretty liberal visitation policy though. If the animal is up to date on shots and we have a copy of those records on file, they can visit. Unless, of course, they are aggressive toward others.
Blake nodded. He’d learned the gist of the visitation policy last week during Riley’s escapade with Mr. Farley’s cat. “Well I was wondering if you have any kind of pet therapy program here where dogs come in on a regular basis to visit any residents who are interested?”
The administrator shook his head. “No, we don’t. We’ve talked about it, but we don’t have the staff to head that up. Someone to work with the dogs, train the owners—it just seems like more work than we can put into it right now. Although I will admit to you that I think it would be beneficial to many of our residents.”
Blake nodded. “I worked for a place back in Charleston that trained service dogs for people with diabetes, epilepsy, and anxiety. We also worked with dogs to go into nursing homes and even college campuses. I just wondered if you had anything like that because I know my grandpa would get a lot out of it and I’m sure a lot of others would too.”
“I see.” That administrator scratched his chin. “What was your part in the training?”
“I helped identify which dogs from a litter would make good service dogs. I helped with the initial training—you know, potty training and stuff like that. I also helped run the sessions we’d have with different groups who were either individuals being matched with the dogs or people who had dogs who they wanted to get trained as therapy dogs.”
“I like that you have experience with this area. Do you live here now?”
Blake paused for a moment, then nodded. “Yes. I just moved back to Arcadia Valley. I wanted to be near my family.”
“Do you have any spare time?”
Blake laughed. “Sir, all I have right now is spare time.”
“Let me call your former boss and have a chat with them. Assuming that goes well, would you be interested in working part-time here? Creating a small-scale therapy dog program?”
Blake nodded. “Yes, sir. I would love that.” He’d actually given a little thought to opening his own facility like he’d worked for in Charleston, but that would take more funding than he had available. Which right now was zero.
“Come back Wednesday morning at eight and we can put together some kind of plan. I’m thinking maybe you can identify three or four potential dogs and owners who might be interested, and eventually they could come in a couple of times a week.”
Blake nodded. “That sounds good.”
“We won’t worry about any kind of ‘official’ certificate. What I want is for someone to help ensure the animals and their owners are prepared.” He jotted something down on a piece of paper. “Since you’re new in town, I’m going to put you in touch with someone who might be able to help you identify owners and animals.”
“That would be great.” Blake had no clue how he’d take care of that otherwise, other than putting an ad in the newspaper or something.
He handed Blake the paper. “She should be able to at least point you in the right direction.” He stood and shook Blake’s hand. “Thanks for coming in. I’ll see you Wednesday.”
Blake stuffed the paper in his pocket. Things were finally looking up. He couldn’t wait to fill his dad and Susie in on the latest development. He knew his old boss would only have good things to say, so he felt confident in thinking the job was his.
It might only be part time, but it was a start.
Maybe a new life was here for him after all.
**
Riley sat in front of the laptop at the kitchen table. Her eyeballs felt like they might crack. How did people stare at computer screens all day long? She clicked the PAY button on her water bill and wrote the amount down in her checkbook. The phrase ‘too much month at the end of the money’ came to mind. She was going to have to start cutting corners somewhere, but she’d already done that once. She’d had her cable TV turned off a couple of months ago, but she wasn’t sure what else she could cut out.
Something had to give, and soon.
Dottie jumped in her lap and purred.
Riley absently scratched behind the cat’s ears. “It must be nice to be a cat,” she said softly. “You don’t have to worry about anything. You can catch a mouse if you’re hungry.” She stopped scratching and Dottie looked at her with yellow eyes. “And you, especially, have always been well-cared for.”
As if to remind her that she still needed to be scratched, Dottie nudged Riley’s hand.
Riley laughed. “Point taken.” She went back to scratching and the cat purred.
The ringing doorbell startled them both and Dottie scurried into the other room.
Riley wasn’t expecting company. She glanced through the peephole.
No way. What was he doing here?
She opened the door to Blake standing on her doorstep, grinning.
“Sorry to barge in like this,” he said.
“Can I help you?” she asked. “Are you lost?”
He chuckled, revealing a dimple she hadn’t noticed before. “Maybe. I actually have a business proposition for you.”
She regarded him for a long moment. “Okay, I’m curious.” She opened the door wider. “Come on in.” She ushered him into the kitchen and pointed to the table. “Have a seat.”
He sat down, looking around the cheery room. She’d painted the kitchen walls yellow right after she bought the place and it was one of her favorite rooms in the house.
“Do you want a cup of coffee?”
He nodded. “That would be fantastic.”
“Cream? Sugar? Whipped cream?”
“Yes?” He laughed. “The sweeter the better.”
She grinned. “Coming up.” A few moments later she put a steaming mug in front of him, then sat down with her own cup. “What is this business proposition? Are you looking to invest in a dog boarding business?” She didn’t have investors, but at this point she might not turn them down.
Blake shook his head. “Not quite. I’m actually looking to start a pet therapy program at Retro Village.” He gave her a hopeful look.
“Are you serious?” She’d wanted there to be a therapy program at Retro Village for a long time, but there had never been anyone to establish one. “Do you have experience with that kind of thing? You can’t just take a dog and call it a therapy dog, you know.”
He grinned. “I know that. I used to work for a training facility in Charleston. We trained all kinds of service dogs—diabetic, epilepsy, anxiety, and therapy. It’s a reputable program. I can give you the name and number of my former boss if you want to call and check my references.”
Riley considered his offer. She had to admit, she was shocked to learn that he had a history of training dogs. “That won’t be necessary. I just wanted to make sure that you knew what you were getting into.”
He took a sip of coffee. “I do.”
“And you’ve already run this past the administrator?” She’d mentioned it to him once herself, but there hadn’t been anyone who could facilitate the program.
“Yep. Actually. he gave me your name as someone who might be able to offer some guidance. I probably should have called, but the receptionist ended up telling me you didn’t live far, so I thought I’d take a chance.”
“What were you going to do if I hadn’t answered the door?”
He grinned. “Call, I guess. Or just ring the doorbell till I wore you down.”
Showing up had been a little brazen, but at least it was for a good cause. “So, what do you need from me?”
“The first thing I need to do is identify a few dogs and owners who might be interested. We’ll start out small, maybe three or four dogs. Eventually, we could work up to a few more. We’re not going to offer a full-blown certified kind of thing though. This is going to be a little more relaxed. Since the only thing required for a dog to visit the facility is for their shot records to be on file, I’ll just be walking the owners and dogs through a few exercises to help them feel comfortable meeting with residents. This will be a good starting point for the future.”
“What do you mean starting point?”
Blake looked sheepish. “I’ve been thinking about how much I enjoyed the work I did in Charleston for the animal training facility there. I’d love to open up my own facility here and train dogs to be service dogs and therapy dogs.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “But I’m still a few years away from being able to do that, so this seems like a good start. And honestly, I’ve never stayed in one place for that long—so I guess I need to figure out if Arcadia Valley really is the place for me before I commit.”
“So you’re kind of a nomad?” she asked.
He chuckled. “I guess you can say that. I’ve just. . .” he trailed off. “I’ve had kind of a chaotic life up to this point.”
Blake didn’t elaborate and Riley decided it wasn’t her business anyway. “Well it sounds amazing to me. If you decide to stay, I mean.”
“I know my grandfather misses the interaction he had with his dog, and I’m sure other residents might be the same. Or there may be some who had pets previously and this might stir up some happy memories for them.”
“And others might just be calmed by the act of petting a dog,” Riley said. “I even saw a thing on the news recently where dogs were being used in the courtroom to help calm crime victims as they give their testimony.”
Blake grinned. “Exactly. I think this program will benefit residents in many ways. Does this mean you’ll help me?”
“Count me in. I can think of a few people in town who might be interested and who have dogs that would probably be good candidates.” She hoped she wasn’t making a mistake by agreeing to help him. But it was for the good of the community and it involved dogs—how could she say no to that?
“Great.”
“I work with the local shelter, so I spend a lot of time finding the right home for dogs. Through that, I’ve really gotten to know a lot of dogs and owners. I think I might have several candidates for you. The woman I work with at the shelter, Vera, has a sweet golden retriever named Trixie. She’s older, but seems very intuitive toward how people feel.”
“That’s exactly what I’m looking for,” Blake said. “Do you Vera would be interested?”
“I’ll ask her. I’m scheduled to work later this week and we can talk about it then. She may have some good suggestions about others who might be interested.” Vera was in her mid-sixties and had been rescuing animals for longer than Riley had been alive.
“Great. How about I give you a few days to think about it? Compile your list of owners and dogs. The training sessions will be in one of the empty conference rooms at Retro Village. I’m thinking we’ll meet a couple of evenings a week.”
“Sounds good. I can go ahead and make a few phone calls too just to see if I can find a couple of people interested. I think my chocolate lab mix, Cocoa, might be a good candidate.”
Blake grinned. “Perfect. Sounds like we’ve already got two of our four.”
“Two?” Riley asked, puzzled.
“My dog, Journey, is already a pro. I’ve been taking her to visit nursing home residents, college students getting ready for tests—she’s even visited pre-schools on shot day.”
“Sounds like you and Journey can teach the rest of us a thing or two. I’m glad you had the idea to introduce something like this to Retro Village.
“Well, I have to admit that my inspiration came from watching this girl try and reunite an elderly man with his cat.” He grinned. “Your dedication was impressive.”
She laughed. “If you only knew some of the crazy things I’ve done in the name of animal rescue.”
His amber eyes pierced hers. “I’d love to hear all about it,” he said sincerely.
Riley’s stomach flipped and she stood up abruptly to take her coffee mug to the sink. “Do you want more coffee or anything?” His presence suddenly had her on edge.
He shook his head. “No thanks.” He got up from his seat at the table and put his mug on the counter, then crossed to the wall that led to the living room. “This painting is cool.” He stood and admired a painting of two dogs sitting side by side on a dock, a blue lake behind them. “They look like best buds.”
Riley smiled. She picked up a framed photo from the kitchen counter. “They were. Here’s the original photo.”
“Wow,” said Blake. “The artist who painted this is really talented. Is it someone local?”
She blushed. “I did it myself. Those were the first dogs I ever rescued—Jake and Barley. They loved the lake. I had this photo framed back when I was in high school and decided to try to replicate it. I’ve always dabbled in art.”
“You’re very talented. Do you sell them?”
Riley shook her head. “No. I do them every now and then for friends and family. I can’t paint people very well, but animals I can do.” Sort of like her life. She wasn’t always good with people, but she was great with dogs and cats. Her sister’s farm animals even seemed to like her better than they did most people.
Blake took his phone from his pocket and snapped a photo of the painting. “I have a friend in Mississippi who has a duck club for hunters from all over the country. He has a lab who he treats like royalty. I mean, this dog is spoiled.” He grinned. “I think he’d go crazy to have a painting like this done. He’d pay top dollar.”
Riley wrinkled her nose. “Really?”
“You’re sitting on a goldmine here. I’d put these up for sale in the same online store you sell your dog treats in.”
“I only sell treats at the market.”
Blake looked surprised. “Oh. Well if you ever decide to expand, I sure think you could sell these online. All people would need to do is send you a photo.”
Riley never given any thought to using her art skills for profit. Her family had always encouraged her and told her she had talent, but hearing it from Blake put in in a new perspective. “Thanks for the idea. That might help me out a lot. I’ve focused mainly on the boarding side of my business and that can be seasonally driven.” Could an online store be the answer to her financial problems? She’d always written it off as likely being more trouble than it was worth, but if she coupled it with the paintings it might work. She did love to paint.
“See? I’m useful every now and then. You might want to keep me around.” He winked and Riley felt her stomach flutter again.
She managed a smile.
“I’ll call you in a couple of days and we’ll set up a time to meet.” Blake stepped to the door. “Thanks, Riley.”
She watched as he walked away, concerned that she enjoyed hearing him say her name just a little too much.